


Sinful Delights in London

by Dreadful_Delight, LeeAusten



Series: DreadfulDelights Dean and Cas Bingo [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1883, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Dry Humping, Historically Accuracy as i could, London, M/M, Prostitution!Dean Winchester, Rich Castiel (Supernatural), handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreadful_Delight/pseuds/Dreadful_Delight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeAusten/pseuds/LeeAusten
Summary: Lonely Castiel looking for delight in the arms of Dean Winchester.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, DeanCas, Destiel
Series: DreadfulDelights Dean and Cas Bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933282
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: Dean and Cas Bingo





	Sinful Delights in London

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to be as historically correct as I could. 
> 
> A big thank you to my Beta LeeAusten, she did so much for this work! So please go and read her fics! 
> 
> Oneshot for DeanCas Bingo  
> Crossed out: Dry Humping
>
>> [](//imgur.com/a/riGyVGe)  
> 
> 
> *A molly house was a meeting place for homosexual men.
> 
> *You can see the open-crotched undergarments here:  
> [Undergarments](https://content.ucpress.edu/chapters/8974.ch01.pdf)  
> On Page 3
> 
> *A shiner is a Victorian era currency slang.  
> 1 shiner was 1 guinea, that was 1 pound and 1 shilling.  
> Cas gave Dean 10 Pound and 10 Shilling  
> If you convert the 10 pound from 1883 to today, it would have the buying power of 1326.06 dollar.

***

London, 1883

It was a dark and cold night when Castiel walked through London. The rain made the cobblestones wet and slippery, so he had to focus hard enough not to fall. His heart hammered away so fast in his chest and he held his umbrella with a firm grip.

London was a dangerous city especially at night, where thieves and murderers just waited for their new victim. Rattling horse hooves were heard in the distance, screaming cats in the dark alleys and more impoverished people on the streets, when he came closer to Whitechapel, with every step he made. Castiel didn’t want to take a carriage, fearing that someone could have asked the coachman where he went, and he wanted to avoid that.

The air was filled with the heavy smell of faeces, mold and smoke. The cobblestones were long gone and the road was awfully muddy from the rain. He knew exactly where he needed to go. Whitechapel was a filthy place, but he was filthy too, so.. it fitted so well in his mind that he belonged there. He stepped around the puddles and turned right into a dark, small alley, and knocked on a small wooden door at the end of it.

After a few seconds, someone opened up and Castiel slid into the molly house*. Out of all the women clad in very suggestive clothing, Charlie being one of them, gave him a nod and closed the door immediately after he was in because they had known each other for a long time. He had become a familiar face and despite their rules of secrecy, their expressions revealed that he was welcome in there whenever the need arose.

“Hey, you! Good night, Castiel, I haven't seen you in such a long time!” She said in her usual cheerful spirit and gave him a quick hug. The scent of rosewater and makeup clung to the air along with cheap whiskey and beers.

Castiel always got a bit stiff when people hugged him. “Yeah,” he just answered simply because he had ‘life’ going on, what should he say.. and who cared anyway?

No one understood what trials he experienced, the times when he felt so lonely and desperate for someone to understand him. And love was just a figment of his imagination. Love was never something that he was used to because no one seemed to teach him what it was like for free.

“Dean there?” he asked gruffly, holding his dripping wet umbrella in his left hand, and his hat in his right.

Charlie nodded and carefully scrutinized his face with a small smile. “Sure, same room like always.”

Castiel nodded at her and went slowly to Dean’s room. He had to go through a horde of both men and women to reach the stairs and slowly he climbed one step after the next. His heart was beating so fast and it was always the same, the same kind of nervousness even though he had been there many times already. And then he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and quietly knocked on Dean’s door.

“Come in,” came the usual gruff voice, almost too familiar in its quality that Castiel oftentimes thought about what it must be like for the other man. Did he ever want to escape? Did he like being in there all the time?

And when he entered, Dean was leaning with his arms on the windowsill smoking while he supported one knee on a small wooden stool. He wore a white loose shirt, which fell over his right shoulder and his legs were covered in short, open-crotch drawers* for women, with short lace ruffles at the end.

It seemed like men loved those on Dean, so he wore them and it didn’t seem to bother him at all at that point because all of those quirks came with the whole business. The same men who came and went, like visitors who took what they wanted and breezed through the door, leaving the stench of their colognes to linger like painful reminders of what business was conducted in there.

Dean slowly exhaled the last smoke into the cold air, puffing up like a small lost cloud before disappearing with the wind and he quickly flipped his stub out of the window.

He turned his head slowly to Cas and smiled. “What can I do for you tonight?” he asked in a soft tone and closed the window. Immediately the dull noise of the day outside dulled away and left a silent room which invited more tension between them.

No one would ever believe that someone like him could develop a bond with a stranger, and Cas didn’t feel like a stranger. He didn’t feel like the others who saw nothing but a man they could fuck easily and pay afterwards. Cas would look at him like he was someone and he meant something and maybe that’s why they gazed at each other so long, because of that connection that was rare.

“Hello, Dean,” came that gravelly voice that could weaken knees. “How are you?”

“I’m peachy, you know how it goes,” Dean turned around and walked tentatively up to Cas and they looked at each other silently, blue eyes searching green ones for any kind of emotions. And the scrutiny became so intense gradually, that both of them blinked slowly as if trying to see through the haze.

Castiel cleared his throat and put his umbrella and hat away then he shrugged off his coat.

“I just.. just, want you on all four,” he demanded, tearing away his eyes and staring at anything else other than those deep pools of green. If he allowed himself to show any signs of weakness, then this could end with him developing an attachment, and it was something that the other man didn’t seem to want.

Dean, on the other hand, was aching to just give in, but he thought that he would never be good enough for a man like Cas in any other way than to please him like a client needed to be pleased so he nodded curtly, obviously accustomed to being told what to do and complying. “Sure, whatever you need, Cas,” he said and smiled stiffly. “All fours it is.”

Then he walked to his neatly made bed and did as Cas told him because it wasn’t like the other requests. Cas never wanted to do weird stuff like other men, he was always one of the normal ones, quiet and normal. Dean had done so much weird stuff with those demented other clients, but Cas was always a comforting highlight of his work and he was always happy to see him. Yeah, you could just hear his heart screaming that this guy, quiet and yet demanding, was something special.

Cas observed Dean for a moment of course, thinking...what a beautiful man he was and so he walked over to him, with a huge bulge in his pants and knelt behind him on the bed. He was fully clothed and wasted no time because he wanted this. He wanted it so much that his entire body was screaming out for more, so he pressed his bulge at Dean’s arse, rested one hand between the other man’s shoulder blades and caressed that wonderfully sculpted back slowly, all the way down to Dean's hips.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispered, eyes fluttering close from the feeling of their bodies meeting although on his end, the fabric of his pants was a horrible barrier between them. “Every single thing about you just...drives me crazy. Do you realise that? Do you even realise how perfect you are?”

And Dean shivered in response, because there was always something special about this particular man that caused his mind to reel. “Thank you,” he said calmly, robotically in fact, since doing the same job for so many years forced him to react in the same ways. “But there’s nothing special about me.”

Castiel started to grind his definite bulge over Dean’s arse whilst caressing the smooth skin climbing across that glorious arched back. And he willingly let his hand wander over Dean’s body, almost as if he was trying to search for every single inch because he craved to know those places. His hands found Dean’s nipples and played with them, and he twisted very gently, rubbing with the tips of his fingers and gradually squeezing until…

The soft noises emanating from the other man’s parted lips made Cas even harder in his pants and he picked up the pace of grinding into Dean's arse. His body was opening up, in ways that only the two of them could create, ways that clouded his mind from desire and passion

“The way you moan like that...it does things to me…” he grunted, collecting Dean’s hips into his hands and pulling him closer so that the friction created a definite heat between them. “Come for me, Dean. Come for…”

He didn’t have to ask twice. The other man covered his bedsheet with precum instantly, over and over again while his hard dick bounced up and down. And chest heaving, almost falling onto the soft sheets, those green eyes turned to consider blue ones that were darker and filled with lust.

“Are you going to fuck me tonight?” Dean asked, his voice hoarse and suggestive of really wanting the two of them to go further but fearing that the request might not be made.

“No,” Cas answered simply and he grabbed Dean by his hips firmly, moaning loudly as he began to thrust his crotch against the other man’s arse, over and over again.

The sounds created between them only deepened the moment, and Castiel leaned over Dean’s back, then rubbed his full body against him. “Oh Dean…” he moaned, folding over because his cock was straining inside of his pants and the pent up stalling of that kind of release hurt so bad, he just wanted to come. “I want you. I always...want you in any way I can have you.”

“Cas… please..” Dean begged because he needed some kind of touch from the other man, some kind of raw friction that would drive him crazy. “Whatever you want, take it. You don’t have to ask. Just...take it all.”

Castiel rubbed his crotch over and over Dean's rear though and continued to do so until Dean began to beg, babbling and making Cas lose his mind. Unspeakable things, like _I want you_ and _I need you inside of me_ and those arms. Dean kept reaching for him, trying to establish some kind of contact despite knowing that he may never be able to receive that. It was always the same with this one, the continuous torture of expecting more and never receiving it, of feeling what it was like to almost have the two of them without clothes.

And because Castiel felt the same way, craving skin on skin and entwined fingers, and imagining that they were intimately connected already, he came suddenly in his pants. “DEAN!” he moaned and trembled all over his body, falling backwards and pulling the other man along with him onto the bed.

He was shaking. Dean wasn’t cold but he was aching for a kind of release that Castiel was depriving him of but he didn’t want to ask again. He feared that if he asked, then he would be left alone like all the other men who thought he was just something to use. And he wasn’t special, but sometimes, he just felt so special when they were together.

Cas sat back down on his legs afterwards and pulled the other man back on his lap, then he rested that beautiful head of dark blonde hair on his right shoulder. “I’ve got you, Dean, I've got you.” he whispered and finally took Dean’s penis in his hand and stroked it softly.

Dean thought he was in heaven suddenly, wishing for so much and tasting it. Cas was so special to him in ways he never really fully understood because here was this man who always cared about him… he even offered him employment as his private servant in his house, but because of Dean’s pride, he always refused. And he couldn’t refuse what he wanted in that moment, turning his head so that their eyes connected.

When he gazed into those pools of blue, he always drowned in them, no matter how hard he tried not to. No matter how the truth dawned upon him that they were from different stations in life, he thought Cas was so deserving of love and tenderness. And he started to trail kisses across that perfect jawline, wrapping his fingers around Cas’ own still holding his cock and slowly the two of them built up a rhythm as he thrusted into Cas’ hand. His body was shaking and tiny drops of sweat ran down his face, trailing all the way to his torso that rocked with the other man’s movements.

“Cas...Castiel…” he choked, searching for a kiss and deepening it, their moans filling the air and Dean was almost there, almost at the edge as Cas wrapped his fingers around tighter. He was so rough sometimes, so determined to get a rise out of Dean that always left an imprint in his mind. “Faster. I’m...almost there…”

“Yeah, fuck my hand.” Cas said in that gravelly seductive tone and turned his head slightly to Dean, then looked him straight in the eyes. “Fuck my hand until you can’t hold back anymore.”

Dean loved those eyes and he loved Cas, oh so help him god, he did love him. Possibly, he was the closest thing to an anchor in his chaotic world, a soul that Dean latched himself onto. Something that felt real and beautiful and like a ray of sunshine most days when he didn’t feel special. His breathing was short and after two more strokes from Cas, he spilled all over their fingers.

“Cas!” he called out and his body instantly softened from the release, his brain became very mushy and he smiled. “Wow, that was.. Cas that was amazing,” he whispered, breathless still and planting a deep kiss onto the other man’s lips. They lingered in that moment a little longer until Cas decided to break away, leaving Dean to groan in protest.

Cas was always so gentle with him afterwards, he released him after caressing his face and then eased him onto the soft sheets, softly stroking through his hair.

“It was amazing,” Cas said, reaching for a blanket to drape over Dean. “As it always is. You’re my one and only. You’re quite aware of that.” He got up from the bed and rested some money on the table. Then quickly, he got dressed again, took his hat and umbrella and sighed.

Dean rose up, elbows digging into the sheet and he looked on the table. “10 Shiner*, Cas? That's definitely too much!”

Cas looked at him fondly and blinked slowly as if delivering a secret message only consisting of love. “No, it's not, Dean. Thank you for your time.” And after a small nod, he walked to the door and reached for the knob. “You know.. my offer still stands, you don’t have to work here,” he added quietly and went home.

***

The next morning, after Cas ate his breakfast, the doorbell rang. He got up and went to the door, with a book in one hand and he opened the door.

“What can I…” he started and looked surprised.

“Hey Cas.” Dean said grinning from ear to ear.


End file.
